<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Gravity by Say_lon_I</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207082">Gravity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_lon_I/pseuds/Say_lon_I'>Say_lon_I</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Erwin Smith-centric, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mental Health Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:22:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_lon_I/pseuds/Say_lon_I</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A counterattack against the beast titan would have been pragmatic. A day ago, instead, his right hand man goes down while single-handedly taking on a trio of ten meter class.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Levi/Erwin Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gravity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Whilst a counterattack against the beast titan would have been pragmatic if done well, a day ago, instead, his right hand man goes down while trying to take on a trio of ten meter class single-handedly.</p><p>Erwin Smith, the thirteenth Commander of the Survey Corps, isn’t easily fazed.</p><p>He traverses his mount back inside the walls, through the implacable crowd, greeting their jeers and cheers with an unyielding spine, a hardened face. He makes a list of the damage incurred, of the soldiers lost or worse. He freshens up, treats his injuries. He eats. He slumbers. He rivets in the cremation rituals no less and no more than how he has until now.</p><p>
  <em>Their mares trot side by side on the journey to the breached grounds. Humanity’s Strongest is as impressive as ever with his ill humor and expert maneuvering and the glinting edges of his new blades. Erwin senses the man’s wary gaze on himself, gauges his surprise when he responds to the crowd’s vigor before their departure to Shiganshina that morning.</em>
</p><p>It’s been a few days after their return. He’s scribbling a proposal to the newly appointed Ministers on raising their share of metal to work out more facets into the three-dimensional maneuver gear, the end of his quill dancing gracelessly. It’s long past lights out, long past the time for any fearless cadet to be dallying around in the murky corridors. If he were a devout man, he would say he’s almost waiting for that proverbial click-clack of boots against the hardwood floor.</p><p>It makes him recollect their last encounter before they had left the Walls.</p><p>The Captain clicking his tongue and commenting on the yet again poor state of his desk, on that one ink stain on the floor which never seems to disappear no matter how many times it is scrubbed. The Commander waves him away. Levi clicks his tongue some more. Despite the elephant in the room, neither of them appears apprehensive over the expedition to retake Wall Maria.</p><p>
  <em>The date before that, they sit opposite each other and list out the new additions to the Survey Corps under Queen Historia’s rule. There’s only the silence of their ink on paper accompanying the night air. The Captain steals glances at him; The Commander sends another young life to hell.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When they’ve had too much to drink, the Captain makes an ill timed wisecrack about the starch on his shirt collar instead of busying himself with more important things.</em>
</p><p>The knock on the door has him murmuring out a customary “Enter”.</p><p>The door opens, effectively snapping the Commander out of his reverie, and the sight which greets him is not of dark hair and piercing grey eyes.</p><p>“Commander,” Cadet Jaeger starts. He sounds desperate, and his eyes gleam wildly in the flickering candle light, sweat rolling down his temples, and Erwin lets him speak to his heart’s content without taking in even a syllable of the babble.</p><p>
  <em>The afternoon before that, a small hand lodges itself onto his shoulder throughout the meeting with Chief Commander Zackley.</em>
</p><p>When a raw silence squirms its way into the distance of a few steps between them, Erwin’s quill stills, and he regards the boy, regards his blood shot eyes, his trembling hands that are clenched onto something the Commander can’t be bothered to reflect upon. “I understand your regret, Eren, but I’m afraid bygones will remain bygones,” he responds kindly. “Don’t let them hinder you. Focus on getting ample rest so we may come up with something more foolproof in the future, with better equipment and battle tactics, and give meaning to their deaths. It’s getting late. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>The younger male opens his mouth to say something, shuts it again, and gives a little snarl of aggravation. He moves towards the Commander’s desk tenaciously. “Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir,” he says in his usual brazen manner, not bothering to disguise any of the resentment he feels towards Erwin Smith at the moment as he brings his fist down on the table.</p><p>The door shuts behind the cadet like bones crunching under gigantic feet, and Erwin stares wordlessly at the Wings of Freedom insignia, bloodied and bruised and worn out by years of use, left behind by the titan shifter.</p><p>He doesn’t pick up his quill for a long time.</p><p>Commander Erwin Smith isn’t fazed, but memories come to him at times when he lets himself slip, a dozen, a few dozen, a thousand, drawn out of their dungeons by the silliest of words, barest of touches, piling up into a mountain of regret.</p><p>
  <em>It’s the first time they’ve had a civil meal together after he’s taken over as Commander; nothing grand, just soup that’s too thin and watery and bread that’s gratefully not stale. The Captain comments on how it tastes worse than horse shit. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Levi prefers using the shared bath area before the cadets wake; he has no qualms about helping Erwin wash his back even before the blasted Titan gets his arm.</em>
</p><p>It pours on him, drop by drop, gradually occupying more and more of his everyday life.</p><p>
  <em>“You think you can survive in this shithole?” The Captain says when he steps into the newly renovated office of the Commander for the first time, forefinger coming away from the table with a layer of dust; he doesn’t look impressed in the least bit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I have to,” Erwin replies, gathering the hardbound document he’s been studying long before the expected official announcement.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Levi stares holes into his back, makes a low humming noise that's fair from pleased. When he turns inquiringly, the man is busy staring murder at the ink stain on the hardwood floor instead.</em>
</p><p>Erwin Smith, Thirteenth Commander of the Survey Corps, isn’t a man who is easily fazed.</p><p>But that night, he sits there, fingers white-knuckled around the quill, phantom pains of his missing right arm ever fresh, the hundreds of books collecting dust on his shelves offering little words of comfort, until blue meets smoky grey.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wrote this one night while waiting for RtS to get into the full swing of things years ago. Putting it here so it sees the light of the day. Past Me really thought Levi would've bit the dust before Erwin, so I wrote this to remain blind and soothe myself in the face of all the hints Isayama was dropping about Erwin's fate back in 2016.</p><p>There wasn't much point to this; I think I was just practicing writing something confusing but depressing at the same time.</p><p>Comments are welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>